This morning, I lay awake in bed at about 6 a.m. The room was in darkness, as the sun had not yet glided above the horizon, bathing all in light. I listened to the myriad of bird songs taking place just outside my window – all joyfully announcing the coming dawn.
Their songs gave me a sense of peace and joy. They reminded me of something a neighbor told me just a few days ago, in reference to her own personal trials of the moment:
Birds sing in darkness in anticipation of the sun.
We, too, may sing in (our own) darkness in anticipation of the Son.
I may not have worded it perfectly, but you get the idea. Lately, it seems to me as though the whole earth is off kilter – heaving – locally, nationally, globally…And yet, we may keep on singing because we, as Christians, have HOPE.
The birds this morning also reminded me of a poem from my favorite poet, Emily Dickinson:
Hope is the thing with feathers That perches in the soul, And sings the tune–without the words, And never stops at all,
And sweetest in the gale is heard; And sore must be the storm That could abash the little bird That kept so many warm.
I’ve heard it in the chillest land, And on the strangest sea; Yet, never, in extremity, It asked a crumb of me.
Have a great weekend, friends, and keep your face to the sun (Son). We have great hope for this messed up world. His name is Jesus.